Cat Calls
by Mikeala-and-Whitney
Summary: Sam Winchester had to pay off his debts somehow.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Cat Calls

Summary: Sam Winchester had to pay off his debts somehow.

Warnings: This is a Hooker!Sam AU, so, be prepared for things that aren't as pleasant to the eye by some.

A/N: Hey, look at the bitchin' summary. Isn't it great?

Also, I am considering turning this into a chapter fic thing but I am not sure just yet.

Disclaimer: I own none of this franchise.

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Sam Kinkade stood on the street with only the clothes on his back and hair in his face. The street light shined brightly, and he could just see all the others that were on different corners and different spots. Some glanced at him, wondering who he was, or what he was maybe. He wasn't even sure what he was doing—wait, no, yeah he did. Those payments for Standford, right? To make sure he could stay in the fucking place and do great things.

He kept his head held high, leaning against the brick wall that had a big fucking sign on it. Something about a pub, but it had boards on the windows. It was closed down, perfect place to be if one wanted to be undetected. Sam was eighty percent sure he could get away if the cops showed up and, hey, maybe he'd even be able to pick one up if he got caught anyway.

Way to be optimistic, Sammy boy.

He shook his head, and brushed his hair back. His heart was fucking racing, he needed to calm the hell down. He wouldn't get any cars to stop if he looked like a junkie on the fritz. For a moment his fingers got twitchy, and he put them behind his back, hips moving forward and back some. That was pretty damn seductive in his opinion, what was it Jess said—He looked like a good fuck on wheels…but Jess had been pretty drunk when she said that too…

Sam hadn't asked much of his adoptive parents, he still called them fosters at times but they didn't know that. It wasn't really their fault either, it was his. They were what every family was, the dream, everything was nice and everything was bright…but it never felt like family to him. Never felt like something he was really a part of but Sam knew how to smile and nod his head, and be a good son. Sam did his best to keep up, but money was tight in his new family, and sacrifices had to be made.

He would be damned if he got kicked out of this place though. Stanford was his home…

The street light flickered some, and he glanced at it. He could just see the girls across the street getting a bit spooked at that. After one street light's bulb shattered completely, a nice loud pop, they squeaked. Sam could only stare, pause hips moving forward. What the hell—

The girls ran off though, around the corner and Sam looked up. The sounds of a engine roaring came down, and a car was coming. He stood up a bit more, not quite straight up but enough to be seen. Please, let that street light on his side stay lit, that's all he could manage to pray for as he kept his back to the wall.

Don't smile, Sam, until it stops. Don't smile until the car stops, and the window goes down. His eyes widened some, a fraction really, when he realized that was an Impala. It was a rather nice car, not too expensive looking but nice enough. It looked slick, and smooth, like when someone touched it they could feel the chill of it run through them.

When the window finally rolled down, he made his move forward. A few steps, and that Sammy smile came over his lips "Hey, you wanna—"

But his words fell to silence when he saw the driver. It was a man, maybe a few years older than him with a great grin and bright eyes. The driver looked like he was staring at a prize jewel. His heart practically lept and up into his throat, almost making Sam choke on it.

Sam finally was able to blink, and keep up his smile.

"What are you doing out here by your lonesome, kid?" The man asked, clearly he knew exactly what he was doing out on this fucking street. But the driver just kept smiling at him, and watching—waiting probably for the next move.

_Ball's in your court, Sam._

"I need a ride, though…I feel like you do too." Smooth.

Sam felt butterflies, but he reminded himself this wasn't about love or any romantic safety or anything like that. This was about money, this was about working and, gosh, did this guy look like he'd give him one hell of a ride anyway. He leaned against the car some, arm on the door but the way the driver looked at him, it was like he had offended him and dishonored the guy's mother or something.

"Just got it waxed." The man stressed but smiled, blinking a few times before eyeing him up "How much?"

How much—Oh…right…

"For you? Hm." Sam smirked that time, swaying his hips some, enough for the sight to be seen by the driver of the Impala. Those seats looked expensive…maybe the car wasn't in as poor shape as he thought. His hair got in his face again, but the smirk left, a warmer smile "Fifty bucks."

_Fifty—Jesus christ, Sam, why don't you just ask him for his liver too?_

Sam knew he hadn't been out here long enough to manage to get fifty bucks but—

"Alright."

_Wha—What—_

"What's your name?"

"Anything you want, bright eyes." Sam smiled though, even when his heart got caught in his throat again and demanded to be felt.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam had been walking home, to his place at Stanford. It'd been raining, maybe he should've just taken a taxi or the bus…but that would mean lost of money. That wasn't something he could afford at the time so he walked like he did so often.

It was ten minutes later and he was currently in a car, heading to some place called Sparks. The driver, he could not see but seemed to be one hell of a driver from what he'd felt so far with the car barely shaking and all. Sam glanced at his left, his hands in his lab…fingers twisting.

"So." Sam can't think of something better to say. Breaking the ice and starting up conversation wasn't his major talent in life "What's your name?"

That sounded fucking pathetic. He just felt like any second he could get knifed and no one would even care. This was too weird, and too…weird, yeah, he liked that idea. It was weird.

Sam didn't even know if he was being kidnapped or not yet.

The man at his left didn't even look at him. From the darkness of the backseat, Sam could only make out what he looked like just barely. The guy had bright blue eyes…a trench coat and what looked like a permanent blank stare.

"I'm Sam." Sam thought that might help.

At first, he stiffened, shoulders slumped and heart pounding against his ribs. Shit.

"Castiel." O-Oh.

That was…um…original? That certainly wasn't a name he heard often. He had just been walking, and suddenly he was yanked into a car. He was pretty sure he wasn't worth to be kidnapped but hell, maybe he was and just didn't know it. He did have a great smile.

"Wh—What's Sparks?" He asked softly.

"A club." Castiel looked out the window, away from Sam. There was another uncomfortable, and long silence. Before Castiel looked at him, he buttoned his jacket up. The man's eyes shocked Sam, they were so fucking bright "Which is where you will speak to Gabriel."

"Gabriel?" Was that the guy who owned the place?

"You cannot speak to Mr. Michael right away, so yes, you will speak with Gabriel." Castiel stared at him, eyes digging like they had Sam's soul. Sam was pretty sure the guy did have a hold on his soul because his stomach kept doing flops and his heart felt like it was in his throat again. What a great feeling to have on Friday night, the weekend looked bright as always for Sam.

What if Jess noticed he was gone? How was he going to explain to her that he basically got picked up and thrown into a strange car in the middle of the street…on Friday night? This wasn't Sam's gameplan at all.

Sam didn't even know who Michael or Gabriel was, but by how Castiel spoke to him. He was a hundred percent sure he'd rather talk to Gabriel than to Michael. It was something in this guy's eyes, he didn't trust, and he felt uneasy. But anyone would feel uneasy after being yanked into an unknown car by unknown people…on a shady as hell street.

"Is…Does Gabriel own the place? Sparks, I mean…" Sam whispered, glancing at the driver then back.

"Gabriel knows everything." Castiel said instead, but there was something in that sentence that did little to calm Sam, it only made him worry more about what was going to happen to him.

Castiel looked away, hands in his lap. The man was very quiet again, like he had been before. It only made Sam's skin crawl, his fingers tapping at his legs and shoulders fall back down submissively. This was not what he intended on happening when parading his body around town, he just wanted money…to be able to make his payment for another semester and this was not going as planned. Sam wasn't even sure if he had a plan to begin with. It was basically whore yourself and get money, and that was it.

Sam was feeling that fear creeping up in him again, that same fear that told him this was a really bad idea. That this was going to be one hell of a Friday night, but he looked away too. His eyes glancing at the backseat, from where he could see. The car wasn't like the Impala from the other night, and he couldn't even really remember the guy's name who drove it…just those eyes, and that fucking smile.

It was a really great smile.

The streetlights got brighter and brighter as they passed, the car kept moving and then they were uptown. Where the hell was—Sam never saw this before. Not this part of the city, and definitely would not have at this time of night. But there he was, in the back of a strange car, going down another shady street where the bright city lights shined down on them like the heavenly glow of up above.

Something was going to go down, he could feel it. Something very bad, and he didn't want to be apart of that. This wasn't right, this was very wrong. Why couldn't he just go home and go to sleep? Hell, he'd steal money if he had to rather than be in this car, going to some place called Sparks. What kind of name for a club was that anyway—

The car came to a sudden stop, jerking some.

"This is where you get off." Castiel looked at him slowly. No real emotion on the man's face, not even a smile.

"I—I don't know my way—" Sam looked out the car window on his side. He could see the place, what looked like a thousand steps up and even brighter lights shining from it. Sparks on the front of it, and it looked like some sort of Vegas strip club to be honest.  
"Walk up to the door and ask for Balthazar."

"Baltha—what?" But the door is opening, and Sam is yanked out before he can ask. He tried to look back, to see the man named Castiel but the car is speeding away so fast the wheels nearly ran over Sam's feet.

He sighed and felt himself being nudged to the steps. A big man with one of the meanest looks nodding up the stairs "Ask for Balthazar."

"Thanks." He knew that already. Sam kept his head low, and walked. It was a long walk up, and every time the breeze picked up he felt so fucking cold. It was freezing out here…he should have worn a better jacket.

By the time Sam reached the top of the stairs he was panting heavy, trying to catch his breath. There was a moment he took to stop and listen, music was pounding from inside. One of those heavy songs that makes bodies practically morph together when they dance…a fuck song.

Sam took a deep breath, heading forward a few steps to the front door of the place. He nearly flinched when his eyes caught sight of the bouncer.

"I'm looking for Balthazar." The bouncer's eyed swooped over him, then looked away. The red rope was pulled back and all he got was a nod.

Sam cleared his throat some, fingers curling into his palms until they were fists. He felt so nervous. This wasn't right…he should not be here.

"You're not the kid, are you?

"I'm sorry?"

The bouncer laughed, it was warm and loud. The man merely nodded to the door, a smirk on his lips "Balthy's inside." Excuse him-

"Uh…thanks." Sam awkwardly passed by, hurrying in his step. Once he got inside the actual club though…holy shit. There were hundreds of people, and that same music he'd heard earlier was pounding.

Balthazar. He's supposed to find someone named…Balthazar.

He walked around at first, trying to figure out how to get around inside the club. Sam went by a few bar counters, trying not to really make eye contact with anyone. He probably looked out of place with his tight shirt and ripped jeans. He wasn't sure if that meant a good thing or a really bad thing, maybe both. There were so many people rubbing up against each other and others chatting, some glancing at him.

Yeah, probably both.

There was that music too, thudding away from the speakers. Was there a DJ somewhere—Maybe a stage where someone was—He couldn't see much of anything. The place had rainbow sort of lights going on off in the distance, and it flashed over the dancing people. Sparks was…very loud and very crowded. Sam was not sure how this many people could fit inside this place. It could be bigger than what he saw that night though he was pretty sure he wasn't going to come around this place during daylight hours either way.

Where was this Balthazar guy?

He looked around, trying to figure out where he was supposed to go inside this place. Hopefully the guy would know who he was, or would just bump into him. Sam was far too busy staring at the bright lights when he felt his chest slam into someone's in return, a loud thud of music and a splash later Sam was shaking as he looked up.

"So—Sorry."

But he saw the person he bumped into. It was a man, from the looks of it, and the man looked…just as charming as that Castiel guy from before.

"Sorry." Sam sputtered out, hands behind his back "I was…I wasn't watching where I was going." Though he was taller, or felt like he was, he had that utter dread in his chest again. His shoulders slumped, and stiffened.

"You must be the virgin!"

The virgi—

"I'm Balthazar." Sam noticed he had made the guy spill his drink on his own shirt by accident. Shit. Whether he should apologize for that or not, he wasn't sure. Sam wasn't sure of anything in this place.

"But you can call me whatever you like, charmer." Balthazar placed an arm around him, pulling him closer. Their hips nearly met, though it was more of Sam's hip hitting Balthazar's side instead "Let's get you a drink before you talk to Gabe."

"Gabe? Gabriel? You know him—Castiel said—"

"Ah, bah what Castiel said. Let's make those cheeks flushed and welcoming first." Balthazar guided him to one of the bar counter's. Sam was already flustered, cheeks hot and staring at his feet. Shit, shit, shit.

What was happening? This wasn't happening. This was too weird and sudden and—how did these people even know about him in the first place?

Sam somehow got a smile on his face, glancing up "Thanks."

Balthazar removed his arm, and put a hand on the counter "One vodka for me, no, make it two." Suddenly eyes were on Sam again, and Sam only felt how hot his cheeks grew again.

"What about you? A Virgin Mary perhaps?"

He didn't like what that implied.

Sam didn't know what the right response was, so he smiled and shrugged his shoulders like a good boy. That's the first thing he could remember after a long time. Survive. Sam knew a lot about surviving.


End file.
